What He Wants
by Little Mae
Summary: Pepper is not at all sure that Tony Stark is good for her, although her devious employer seems to think the exact opposite. Finally continued, with a real plotline and everything!
1. Oreos and Dry Cleaning

"PEPPER!"

Pepper sighed as she heard Tony's yell from the bottom of the stairs. What could the man possibly want now?

"Ms. Potts, I believe that Mr. Stark requires your immediate presence." Jarvis added in his own computerized voice.

"Thank you, Jarvis." she said, slightly ironically. The AI knew when to back down, and remained silent.

Before Tony could start yelling again, she made her way down the stairs (which can, surprisingly enough, tire one out walking up and down them 20 times a day while wearing 4-inch stilettos). He was back behind the glass walls in his "office", so she typed in the security code and entered. Pepper stood with one hand on her hip, clipboard in the other hand.

"Yes, Mr. Stark?"

He was bent over a holographic image of the Iron man suit, poking it and proposing changes as the image changed continuously. He looked up at her, a piece of dark hair falling into his dark eyes. She resisted even the _thought_ of wanting to push it out of his face.

"Ah, Ms. Potts. Why did you not come when I called you?"

"I came as fast as I could, sir. Unfortunately we can't all get around with power boosters on our feet."

"Touché."

"In fact I ran down the stairs, hoping that I could in any way assist you in one of your ingenious, suicidal plans. Which is hard in heels."

"That is quite enough verbal abuse for today, I think." And he frowned as something beeped on the high-tech computer.

Pepper told herself that tapping her foot would be pushing it. "What exactly did you need me for, Mr. Stark?"

"Right. Do we have any Oreo's?"

She looked slightly confused. This was a new request. "Oreo's?"

"Yeah, you know, the chocolate cookie covering with the white icing in the middle…"

"I know what an Oreo is, Tony."

"That's good. So you can get me some?" she was still staring at him blankly. "Pepper, I know for a fact that you are a competent, independent and attractive woman. However, that unflattering expression you are currently possessed of does not showcase any of these impressive talents."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Those are some big words, Mr. Stark."

He had stopped paying attention to her, going back to tinkering with his newest "toy". Pepper figured that was as close to a dismissal as she was going to get, so she turned towards the stairs wearily, hoping that they had some Oreo's in the cabinet. She sure as hell was not going to fight through the mob of reporters in front of his beautiful, over-the-top home in order to get him something he would likely forget in a couple of minutes. She stopped as he called her name again, this time softer. Her immediate reaction was to turn around and look at him. He had that face on, the face that made it near impossible to deny any request he might make. The face, she supposed, that had lured all the countless women to his bed, to be dropped off with the dry cleaning in the morning. She had already sworn to herself a long time ago that she would not become one of his conquests. It was very hard, however, when he used that velvet-edged, low tone of voice...

"I wanted to ask you if-"

Jarvis cut in, giving Pepper a welcome break from Tony's intense stare. She turned away, blushing, under the pretense of hearing the advanced security system better.

"Sir, I would advise you to turn your attention to channel 5 at this time."

"Right now? I'm in the middle of something…" he caught her eye and winked, giving her the roguish smile against which she had spent difficult years building up immunity.

"Right now, sir."

Tony sighed and looked towards the widescreen t.v. on the wall. The muted sound was turned back on just as an image of Iron man appeared on the screen. Pepper was already wondering why Jarvis had seen fit to boost Tony's ego (which was big enough already) when a female voice started to speak.

"Iron man – a true hero, or a dangerous weapon in the hands of an impulsive billionaire? Has Tony Stark finally pushed the boundaries of science too far? And the biggest question of all – how soon will the already infamous suit technology become available to buyers? More speculating on the mental health of the eccentric 38 year old son of the late Howard Stark when-"

The television was abruptly shut off, and Pepper winced as Tony turned around, his face a completely calm, cool mask.

"My mental health," he snorted. "As if they cared about that when I was bringing the stocks up billions of dollars."

Pepper Potts, for once, was lost for words. She laid a hand on his arm reassuringly, feeling the thick muscles tightening under her fingers. She took her hand back a second later. _Dry cleaning_, she reminded herself. "Mr. Stark…it's just the media. Just one news reporter. You knew they were going to come up with crap like this. I can try to handle some of the damage from that press conference…" she watched his face, hoping to find the smallest expression of remorse, but he only smirked, "but I can't completely deflect it. I can get the information on that particular reporter right away, though."

He looked wounded now. "Pepper…I'm doing a good thing here, right? It's the only way I know how…I don't want it to be turned into some publicity stunt, or a bid for more sales. The one thing I try to do to redeem myself. Figures, huh? Maybe I should stick to casinos and women and wet bars."

"No, sir. I _know_ you're doing the right thing. You're changing; anyone who looks close enough can see it…"

"Can you?"

There was a pause. She half-smiled and tucked that one strand of hair behind his ear. Motherly instincts, that was all. "Yeah, I can. I'll get you those Oreo's now, Mr. Stark-"

He caught her hand and lowered it, glancing at her slim fingers. "Forget the goddamned cookies, Pepper. It's Tony."

She tried to tug her arm back, but he wouldn't let go. She felt the strength in those fingers and grimaced. "Fine. _Tony_."

He still wouldn't let go of her, dragged her closer instead. Pepper bit her lip, looking down at the blue disk in his chest that glowed faintly even through his black t-shirt. Sometimes she forgot what he must have gone through, knowing that he would die if he didn't complete his desperate task in time. One of his hands was on the table, the other one still on her wrist.

"I meant what I said before, Pepper. You're all I've got. Trust me on that – obviously everyone else thinks I'm either insane or a threat to all mankind. You and me against the fucking world, right?"

She couldn't help but smile weakly at him. "And Jarvis."

He chuckled. "Yes. Jarvis?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Could we have a moment?"

"Yes, sir. I will count the increasing number of reporters outside your front door."

"You do that," Tony said, mischievous eyes twinkling into hers. _Oh, no_, she thought, breaking his hold and backing away.

"Mr. Stark– "

He waggled a finger at her. "That's a no-no."

She groaned and massaged her temples. "Whatever. I need to go check the times for that meeting tonight with the…"

"Tell them I'm busy."

"You've canceled on them four times."

"Four?"

"Yes. Four."

"Have to make it five then, won't we?"

Without another word, he closed the gap between them with purposeful strides and kissed her. All her clouded mind could process was _wow_. _All the rumors were actually true…amazing. _It felt right to her, his hands on her waist, and it just made her remember how long it was since she had actually kissed someone…she could feel herself kissing him back, one hand creeping up the back of his neck…

Then the logical side, the reasonable side screamed _danger!_ And she pushed him away, breathing hard and staring at him with wide eyes. He cocked his head to the side and stepped back easily, that cocky grin on his face that she _despised,_ and oooh was he going to get it now…

"Not bad, Ms. Potts," he says softly, teasingly.

Pepper struggled with her words. She wanted to say something scathing, something that would slap that self-assured smirk right off of his face, but all she could think of was

"Dry cleaning," she blurted out.

"What?"

"Umm…" now she had to dig herself out of the huge, gaping, uncomfortable hole she dug herself into. She raised her eyes to heaven, thankful that Tony was keeping a few steps away from her.

"Tony, look. I'm your personal assistant. Your employee. I don't want to end up in a limo with a thank you note, heading towards the unemployment office."

"I always liked a red-head. Fiery."

"Please be serious."

"Fine. You think I would do that to you? After all these years?" He was completely serious, a line forming in the middle of his forehead.

"God, Tony, I don't know…All I know is that I've never seen you with the same woman twice. Do you know what they told me when I first started working for you? They told me that I'd be gone within a week. That every other attractive assistant you'd ever had ended up being escorted out within a couple of days with a month's pay and bragging rights…"

He was closer to her now, gesturing wildly with his hands. "What did I _just _say? Were you listening to what I was saying? If I said anything about firing you, then someone slap me now, because-"

She shook her head. "It's not just that. I don't think you've had a healthy relationship ever. You can't commit to anything. It wouldn't work, and you know it. It would just be awkward and I'm not good for you and you're not good for me. We've had this conversation before."

"Who says you're not good for me? What if I think you're good for me?"

"You don't know what you want, Anthony Stark."

"Pepper." he took her chin in one hand and turned her face towards him gently. She looked at him, really looked at him, for the first time since the day of the disastrous press conference. There were dark circles under soft and vulnerable-looking brown eyes. She saw the little scar on his forehead that had never gone away, and she again experienced that horrible feeling, like a stone just dropped into her stomach. It was the same stone that appeared when she thought that he would never come back. It was fear.

"When I was in that hell-hole of a cave, a dying man who had just saved my life told me not to waste it. I'm trying. I can't just…snap my fingers and magically turn into a different person. I wish I could. But I'm done with taking life for granted. So bear with me, okay?"

All she could do was nod, still staring into his eyes. He smiled slightly.

"Good. Want a drink for real this time?"

She looked at him exasperatedly. "It's two o'clock in the afternoon, and I'm working."

"As your boss, I hereby give you the rest of the day off."

"As your personal assistant who has entirely too much to do, I politely decline. Do you still want the cookies or not?"

He paused. "Can I get another kiss instead?"

"Tony," she sighed. He fought back a grin and turned away from her, placing both his hands on the table in a serious manner.

"I guess that's a no," he said. "That will be all, Ms. Potts."

He could hear her taking an agonizing step closer. "But…"

"That will be all," he said firmly. She huffed angrily at his back and marched back up the stairs. He turned around and smiled lazily, looking up after her.

"Don't you think that was a bit harsh, sir?"

"She'll come around, Jarvis. You just wait."

When he came back from another test drive with the Iron Man suit (he made sure that the number of reporters had dwindled, so that Pepper had less damage to minimize), there sat a box of Oreo cookies and a glass of milk on his work table. After he had finished them off, he found a note stuck to the bottom of the glass.

_I'm trying too._

_-Pepper_


	2. Not My Type

A/N - This is just a little bit of dialogue that wouldn't get out of my head - I was thinking it would happen not too far away from the events in the first chaper. I don't know. Enjoy!

And since I didn't state that I obviously own nothing of Iron Man in the last chapter, I am saying it now. I still don't own anything. Not even an action figure.

**Not My Type**

"You just aren't my type."

"What do you mean, I'm not your type?"

"I don't know…I go for the caring, compassionate, faithful type. You know, the guy who loves only me…"

"I'm not caring and compassionate?"

"No, you're arrogant and self-centered."

"Makes things much more interesting."

"Uh-huh."

"…Is this guy attractive?"

"Well, he doesn't have girls throwing their underwear at him, if that's what you mean."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Less attractive men have a higher marriage rate, actually."

"You're saying I'm never going to get married."

"Who says I think you're so good-looking?"

"It's kind of implied."

"See! That's what I mean. You have an ego the size of your stock value."

"Going up or down?"

"Up, Mr. Super Hero."

"Don't let me get off track here. I'm curious – is the caring, compassionate, faithful, and ugly guy good in bed?"

"Mr. Stark."

"Ms. Potts, answer my question."

"We'd have a special connection."

"Really."

"Yes. He would love me and I would love him, which would make everything meaningful."

"So no wild monkey sex?"

"I'm leaving now."

"Not until I say so. I don't think I would get along with this guy."

"I don't think you would either. He would be much too nice for you."

"I think you would get bored, Pepper. You underestimate yourself. Little miss innocent and all that..."

"Believe what you will about me, Mr. Stark. Although after 6 years one would think that my employer knew me better."

"Hmm. So what does he do to make you tick, as it were?"

"He would wake up next to me in the morning, for starters."

"You've never slept with me. How would you know where I would be in the-"

"He would remember my birthday."

"Ouch. A little harsh there…"

"Only the truth, Tony."

"Yeah, well. Would he brush your hair away from your neck like…this?"

"Good...question. Let me think about that..."

"Yes or no?"

"Uhhh…I would appreciate it if…you would _not _get so close to me…"

"To hell with that, Ms. Potts."

"...Don't flatter yourself into thinking that I am attracted to you at all right now."

"Then you'll have no problem if I stroke your cheek like…that?"

"Well…I don't think…this is hardly appropriate…"

"And then would he turn your head ever so slightly and kiss you like…"

"…"

"Still think I'm not your type?"

"…Excuse me? Did you just say something?"

"I thought so."


	3. Lavender Soap

A/N- Next chapter! I'm on a roll here. Thanks for all the reviews, they really do inspire more chapters. Free cyber-cookies to everyone! And without further ado...

**Lavender Soap**

Tony Stark walked into his house, only slightly unsteadily, at 2 AM in the morning. He had just come from a party (held in Iron Man's honor, of course), in recognition of heroic deeds done for the city. What, so he had caught a couple of burglars? Tony thought it was all a bunch of crap, but there was free booze. And loose women, but that didn't satisfy him as it once did. It irked him that these women couldn't talk about anything other than the next party, their designer clothes, and their own beauty. Funny – it had never seemed to bother him before. There were, of course, the endless sexual advances that were increasing in number since he had revealed himself as Iron Man. Not that he had any problem with those, but it seemed so robotic and…mindless…to come up with retorts that would have slipped out effortlessly months before. It was too hard to play the game. He wasn't in the mood, especially not that night. Which was exactly the reason why Tony Stark was alone and only slightly unsteady at 2 AM in the morning.

He paused in the doorway, ready to make himself another drink and settle down for another sleepless night. Tony moved towards the kitchen, but stopped as he heard the sounds of faint sobbing underneath the murmur of the television. He froze, raising his eyebrows. There were only two possible candidates who would be making noise in his house – Jarvis, and…Pepper?

Jarvis wasn't programmed to cry in such a feminine, endearing manner. In fact, Jarvis wasn't programmed to cry at all.

Tony progressed cautiously into the living room, peeking around the wall to find Pepper curled up on the sofa, tissues strewn around aimlessly. On the floor, on the table, trailing from her hand…

"Pepper?" he only slurred a little…just a little!

Watery blue eyes met his own, and he vaguely noted the tearstains running down her cheeks, her usually impeccable make-up smeared and blurry. She sniffled and uncurled herself, hastily cleaning up the Kleenex tissues.

"I'm so sorry, Tony. I'm sure you have company…Don't worry, I'm leaving right now."

She stood up, collecting her purse and stuffing the rest of the tissues into it. She ran a hand across her face, trying her hardest to smile without looking like some demented clown. He stood, shocked into silence. She still didn't have her shoes on.

"Wait."

She was scrambling under the coach for _something_, although he wasn't quite sure what. "Is there anything else you need? The guest room's clean, you haven't used it in a-" she hiccupped, "while."

He was closer to her now, and he didn't remember how he got there in the first place. In his hand were her shoes. She turned to look at him, and he was struck by how much smaller she seemed without her heels on.

"You forgot your shoes."

"Right, my shoes. I'll just put them on…where is my cell?"

She went back to digging underneath the couch cushions. Tony had never, ever seen her like this before. Something was wrong, and it wasn't due to his state of minor inebriation. _Pepper was sad_, he realized. _Really, really sad._

"What's wrong, Pepper?"

She stopped and looked at him in a way that was supposed to be reassuring. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong."

"It's okay, there's no one else here. Just me."

She replaced the cushions slowly, cell phone in hand. Tony wobbled a bit, standing next to her, and she sighed.

"Sit down, Tony. You're drunk."

"Tell me what's wrong first," he insisted.

Pepper sat back down, curling her legs up under her. He remained stubbornly upright. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"My sister…" she said, haltingly, "has cancer. Ovarian cancer? Her husband Mark called me a couple hours ago."

Tony was suddenly stone-cold sober. "I'm…so sorry."

"Yeah." She gave him a twisted, hard smile. "So am I."

He sat down next to her, putting a hand to his head. "Jesus, Pepper. I thought something had happened to you."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Something did."

"No, I thought…I thought you were hurt, or something."

"I am," she said frankly. And then she covered her face with her hands and cried. Tony pulled her slim frame towards him and she clung to him, resting her hot cheek comfortably against his neck. He didn't know what else to do. They sat there, Pepper's tears soaking into his black collared shirt, her reddish gold hair tickling his cheek. One of her hands clutched his arm as she sobbed, and he brought the other up to stroke her back. He couldn't remember the last time he had held a crying woman…well, an actually sad one. No, these were definitely not tears of joy.

She finally raised her head from his neck, her face flushed.

"I'm sorry, this is stupid of me…and you're probably tired…"

"Stop. Stop apologizing. I'm fine."

"I have to go home, it's late." She glanced at her watch. "Early," she corrected herself.

"You aren't going anywhere."

She pulled back, a hint of her old self returning. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me. You aren't in any shape to drive yourself home."

He tried to pull her back into his chest, but she was having none of it. "Have Happy drive me home."

"Come on, Pepper. Please stay."

Her shoulders slumped; all the fight went out of her. He had been expecting more of a battle royal. He regretfully relinquished his hold on her as she pulled back from sitting half in his lap. She had twined one small foot around his leg to keep her balance…_Not now_, he sternly instructed his baser reactions. He would have made some raunchy comment, but it wasn't the time for that either. He was on a roll with keeping his mouth shut.

Pepper pursed her lips as she sat back on the couch, studiously avoiding Tony's gaze. "Now this is just awkward. And don't say anything about how horrible I look."

He didn't think she looked horrible at all. She looked vulnerable, scared, lost…

"Beautiful," he murmured, staring at her languid pose.

She whipped her head around. "What did you say?"

_Nice going, hot-shot._ "Nothing. I didn't say anything."

"Humph."

Her eyes were closing despite superhuman efforts to keep them open. He stood up, and she unconsciously grabbed at his shirt, causing it to come untucked from dark designer jeans. Fashionably baggy. She had actually picked out the outfit for him after refusing to come to the party as his date. The woman had nerves of steel – they had already kissed (once? twice?) and there was still no sign of yielding. Until now.

"Where're you going?" she mumbled, opening one eye blearily. His expression softened as he looked at her and then scooped her up so that she was reclining in his arms.

"Upsy-daisy, princess," he said, carrying her bridal-style to one of the bedrooms. She made a noise and shook her head as she saw what room he was carrying her to. He realized, with a grimace, that it was one of the rooms in which he…entertained guests.

"All right, I get it," he said sardonically as she started waving her bare feet about in protest. "Would you rather sleep in my room?"

"Not with you," she sighed, putting her arms around his neck. Tony clenched his teeth and looked up at the ceiling, counted to ten. He tried to remember the fundamental rule of – what was it? – not taking advantage of a slightly delirious personal assistant/houseguest? Since when did he have rules, anyway?

So he carried her to his room and placed her on top of the silk sheets. She turned over and rubbed her cheek against the downy pillow. He started to recite the ABC's.

Something still looked wrong. Ah yes- she was still in that uncomfortable looking pencil skirt/white shirt combo. Attractive, but not very conducive to a good night's sleep. Did he dare try and wake her up? He needed an aspirin and a scotch, neat. He definitely was not drunk enough to deal with this.

Five minutes later, he found himself supporting the half-asleep Pepper to the bathroom, where he helped her wash her face clean of make-up. The cold water only slightly revived her, just enough to change into one of his baggy t-shirts by herself. It was a good thing, too, because he wasn't sure how far his self-control could stretch. She sleep-walked back to his bed, her hands wrapped around his waist for support. The ABC's had stopped working – he had resorted to listing advanced algorithms and velocity equations.

Finally, she was under the blankets, sleeping with one hand pillowed under her cheek. Tony breathed a sigh of relief, hesitantly reaching out and tucking one soft curl behind her ear. Her eyelashes fluttered against skin the color of new milk. She looked small, huddled between the comforter and the mattress in the king-sized bed. He had to leave. His brain was yelling _now, man! What the hell are you waiting for?_

But he couldn't leave without…he bent down and kissed her on the cheek, supporting himself with one hand. She smelled like lavender soap and her skin was as soft as it looked. He left then, going down to his own safe-haven in the basement with some aspirin and a clinking amber glass. He didn't sleep at all. He welcomed the insomnia – at least he didn't have to dream. The screams and gunshots were much more vivid then.


	4. The Stakes

A/N - keep reviewing, you wonderful ego-saving people!

**The Stakes**

Pepper Potts stretched luxuriously, uncurling her body and arching against the mattress. She rubbed her eyes sleepily, feeling the unusual softness of the sheets underneath her bare feet. She squinted down at herself, tangled in maroon-colored sheets – _hmm, that is the same exact shade of Tony's comforter…Oh my God!_

She sat bolt upright, putting a hand to her forehead. She had a headache. Pepper counseled herself against hyperventilating. There must be some sort of reasonable explanation to this. Okay, problem solving. She was good at this. What is the solution? What was the _question_?

The red-haired woman breathed in, deeply. She tried to remember everything that had happened yesterday. The call. Her sister…she compartmentalized those feelings into the "deal with later" file. Tony was home…he was drunk…she fell asleep…why had she fallen asleep?!

She had vague memories of someone's gentle hands on her back, splashing cold water on her face, helping her to bed. Hands that were only slightly calloused, as befits a man who never had to work hard for a living. She tried to think positively. No matter how sad she was, she would never put herself into such an awkward position. And yet here she was, wearing - on closer inspection, her boss's shirt - in his bed. But where was he?

"Jarvis?" she called weakly, hoping this was all a bad dream and she would wake in her own bed, in her own room. On her own plain white comforter.

"Yes, Ms. Potts?"

Pepper groaned and buried her face in her hands. "What did I _do_?" she moaned, afraid to look around the room. There was a mortal fear of finding her skirt thrown somewhere…or worse yet, a certain someone's pants. No, she definitely would have remembered that. She was upset and tired, not drunk. Right?

"Mr. Stark said that you would react like this when you woke up. He is working downstairs at the moment."

"Umm, Jarvis…I don't exactly remember what…well, um, Tony was drunk, and-"

"I think you will find Mr. Stark more than capable of answering your questions," the AI said, a little too firmly for a really, really complex computer.

She rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"You are welcome," Jarvis said placidly.

She swung her legs over and then realized that they were bare. "Where are my-"

"I have been ordered not to answer any more questions."

Pepper growled. That was the only word to describe the sound that came out her mouth at the thought of going to find Tony in her ridiculous ensemble. She washed her face and brushed her teeth with a vengeance, murderously spitting toothpaste into the gleaming sink. She scrutinized herself in the mirror, wishing she at least had a hair tie to pull her hair back. She looked too comfortable, too casual, too much like – _every other woman who she had to evict from Tony's house after having slept with him?_

She remembered the last woman; that reporter. Pepper didn't want to be like that…she had better goals for herself. This was unfortunately hard to remember when faced with the actual man himself. 

And she had _just _taken back the extra change of clothes she had put in one of the many rooms (step one in her multi-pronged plan to separate herself from the ever-present Tony Stark). She walked tentatively out of his room, seeing the living room in a whole new light – from the perspective of one who had never left it.

"Tony?" she ventured. Of course he wouldn't hear her. He was probably blasting music in the basement.

So she went down the stairs with bare feet, feeling horribly awkward. Her toes curled as she reached the glass doors and typed in the password. Tony was dismantling the engine of something (she didn't care about what it was). He looked up and saw her, and she immediately felt a blush spreading in her cheeks, down her neck. She thought it was amazing that she just didn't topple over and die, right there in front of him. Drowning in a puddle of her sweat, not even appropriately dressed. Not one shred of dignity left.

He sat down on a spare part and wiped his hands on a dirty towel, a silly half-smile on his face. "My, my. Don't you look ravishing? I think I prefer you this way, Potts."

"Cut it out, Tony," she warned, shifting uncomfortably. The floor was cold.

"And I have to say, those black heels you wear would just make the outfit."

"Mr. Stark. Kindly tell me where my clothes are."

"At the moment? Being cleaned."

She gaped at him. "How did you know the dry cleaner's number?"

He winked. "I have my ways."

"He asked if I could arrange for the clothes to be picked up," Jarvis interjected.

She snorted. "That makes much more sense."

"How did you sleep?" he asked innocently.

"Fine, thank you," she shot back, her eyes flashing.

"Ooo, I like that. You're all intense and angry in the morning."

The AI chimed in. "Actually, it is 12:04 PM."

Pepper's eyes widened and her hand went up to cover her mouth in horror. "Oh, no. You had a meeting with Colonel Rhodes and the new director of munitions at Stark Industries two hours ago, and I told the people at Armani to reschedule a fitting for today, and Agent Coulson from SHIELD wanted to know if-"

"Whoa, hold on. You're giving me a serious headache on top of the one I've already got…"

"Your excessive drinking habit is _not_ my problem," she snapped. She wished she could take it back as soon as the words left her mouth. His relaxed demeanor had turned rigid, his laughing eyes hard. His hands twisted the cloth hard, balling it up in his fist. She hesitantly took a step toward him as he looked away, his jaw clenched.

"Tony, I didn't mean it…I'm just…"

"Leave it."

His two word answer was strained. She bit her lip, played with the collar of the shirt hanging off of her. He seemed to get himself under control again, rolling his shoulders back.

"I was going to say that Rhodey called me and reminded me about the meeting, since your cell phone was off. Apparently this was such a rare event that it warranted a personal call. I think he called just to make sure the world wasn't ending – I believe the word he used was "apocalypse". So I went."

"That's great! You went? All by yourself?" she was being overly cheerful now, trying to keep the mood light. _Stupid, stupid._

He looked her up and down, thankfully focusing on her face. His voice was still rather flat. "Contrary to popular belief, I _do _have some sort of business savvy, and I _can _do things by myself."

She raised her eyebrows at him, thankful that the conversation was brought back to the friendly banter that she was more comfortable with. _Coward_, her heart told her. "Remember the conversation we had about your social security number?"

A bit of life sparked back into his eyes. "Times have changed, Ms. Potts. You, for instance, are standing in front of me right now in nothing but an over-sized t-shirt."

"I am quite aware of what I am wearing, thank you. When will my clothes be cleaned?"

"Whenever Hogan feels like going to get them."

"And you can't? There were at least two fully-functioning cars in your garage when I last checked."

"I don't think so; it's much more fun to watch you squirm. In fact, I'm feeling a bit overdressed now. A little stifled, to tell you the truth. Why don't I just…"

"Anthony Stark, don't you dare take that shirt off. I will quit."

"But you look so cozy-" he was saying over her.

"Just try it and see what happens. Go on, try it."

Needless to say, he kept his shirt on, grumbling. "Make a note in the planner, will you. Write _never comfort crying woman ever again. Especially if said woman has red hair._"

"Very funny, Mr. Stark."

"Oh, it's no joke. Am I smiling, Pepper?"

He was smiling. She loved that smile – the true, honest one. Nothing sordid about it (and Tony could give a smile that assured whomever he was smiling at that they would be in his control by the end of the night). She liked to think that it belonged to her (the honest one, that is), that he smiled like that specially for her. She was also pretty sure that she was insane.

"Seriously though," his eyes were dark again, "if there's anything you need, or your family needs…just take it, no questions asked. Okay?"

"My clothes, now." she said tersely.

"Soon enough, Ms. Potts. That will be all."

She was still fuming. Virginia Pepper Potts would not take this sitting down. No, he was going to get it, damn the consequences. She went back upstairs and found her cell phone and her laptop, and sat down to start work for the day. There was an obscenely long list of emails needing to be read, calls to be made. She still found time to plan out her revenge.

When Tony Stark went upstairs a couple of hours later, Pepper was nowhere to be seen. He frowned – had she actually left? No, her cell phone was still there. She wouldn't leave that. He supposed she might still be pissed about the clothes thing, but it was just too good of an opportunity to pass up.

He was sitting down on the sofa in an old wife-beater and jeans when the very person he was looking for sashayed into the kitchen, humming. Humming? Sashaying?

Tony narrowed his eyes at the apparition that _looked _like Pepper, but sure as hell couldn't be her. She was still wearing his shirt, but she was playing with the hem, rolling it further up her pale thigh with deft fingers. Her hair was still down, and she had applied some makeup (he had once asked her how her makeup stayed perfect throughout the day, and she had primly showed him the make-up bag stashed under the living room table). She bent down to retrieve a pan, and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. He knew what she was doing. His devious PA was trying to get him hot and bothered so that he would _have _to get her clothes. It was working.

Pepper felt as dumb as she did on the night of her senior prom, when the guy she liked asked her to dance and she had stuttered and mumbled and then tripped over her own feet to land on the ground. But she could see through the corner of her eye that he was staring at her, one hand absentmindedly tapping on his chest. Good – her plan was working. She was only making herself a grilled cheese sandwich, but she was making sure it took her forever. The stove had begun to talk to her and asked her what she would like, but she told it to be quiet and let her make the sandwich for once. Damn technology.

"Tony," she called from the kitchen. He looked towards her nervously, his eyes straying from her heavy-lidded gaze. She hoped she was doing this right. Seduction wasn't exactly her forte.

"Yeah?"

"Would you like a grilled cheese sandwich?"

"If you have time."

"Oh, there's plenty of time."

He had wandered into the kitchen, mumbled some sort of answer. Then he took in what she had actually said. "There's…what?"

She turned around from the counter, a plate in her hand. "I said there's plenty of time. You know, I realized something today. Life's too short to take for granted."

He couldn't stop staring at her mouth. She had put some sweet smelling perfume on, he could smell it. "Mmhmm."

She continued on, seemingly oblivious to his ardent attentions. She moved away just as he moved in, almost knocking his head on the refrigerator.

"And I decided that there are a lot of things that I've missed from always being in a hurry. I want to enjoy every day. Like you do."

Pepper put her plate on the table and turned back to get a glass to find Tony dangerously close, one hand planted on the wall and blocking her way.

She blinked. "Oh," was all she could say. _No, no, this is not going the way I planned…_

"You're a smart girl, Pepper," he said quietly, a smirk tugging at his lips.

She mustered up all her courage and gave him a cheeky smile. "Learned from the best."

He didn't reply, only gazed at her intently. _Danger, danger…_ She caught her breath, her smile faltering. She leaned in, eyes closed and lips parted, smelling car grease and a hint of expensive cologne…

And then he patted her head. When she opened her eyes in shock, he was smiling at her pleasantly.

"Well, I guess I'll have Hogan pick up your clothes now. Call if you need me."

Abruptly, the heat from his body was gone as she heard his footsteps pound down the stairs. She walked towards the table and sat down at the table heavily. She looked down at her sandwich and took a bite, chewing slowly. Pepper Potts, legendary in her own right for never running out of things to say, was stumped. She had won the battle. Then why did she feel like she had lost so much more?

In the basement, Tony Stark whistled as he got suited up. There had been another cache of Stark weapons found in the Hindu Kush mountain range between Afghanistan and Pakistan. _Obadiah Stane's legacy,_ he thought bitterly. Still, if his calculations were correct (and they always were), he had just won another round with the confused woman upstairs. And that put him in a very good mood.

The helmet snapped together over his head and Jarvis booted up, giving him the general perimeters of the area where the missiles were kept. _Two can play that game. And as you'll find, Ms. Potts, I don't generally care to lose. _


	5. Likewise, Mr Stark

A/N - chapter five up. And I know this has been done already, but I decided to try my hand at a scene like this. Hope you guys like it!

**Likewise, Mr. Stark**

It was almost three days later when Pepper Potts got the second worst scare of her life. She had gone into the office at 8:00 the day before, tired and torn from dreams that still left her blushing. It was only Tony Stark who could cause a woman just turned thirty-one to blush like that, she was sure. But she had gone in anyway, only to get a call from Tony the minute after her Jimmy Choo heels had stepped into the plush carpeting covering the floor of her cubicle right off of her boss's office.

"Hey. Pepper?"

"Yes?" she was distracted, holding her cell between chin and shoulder, balancing coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.

"Listen, I won't be in for a day or two."

"Why? Where are you?"

"I'll tell you when I get back. I gotta go."

"Wait a minute, Tony…"

"What?"

"Just…be safe."

She could hear the smile in his voice. "Gotcha, babe. By the way, did you ever get your clothes back?"

"Good-bye, Mr. Stark."

She put the coffee down and massaged her forehead. _Babe?_ Was he serious? Pepper decided to put it out of her mind. She had functioned as usual during the day, i.e. ran herself ragged filling in for Tony in some meetings (she didn't know if she had the legal rights to do that, but everyone in the building was used to it anyway) and calling other less important people to tell them he wouldn't be able to make the meetings, and would Friday at 1:30 PM be acceptable?

Instead of going straight to Tony's house/technological miracle after the work day, she drove straight home. Consequently, she was extremely lonely. She thought seriously about getting some sort of dog. A cocker spaniel? A German shepherd? Her apartment seemed so unlived in that she sat down in front of the TV (off) and sorted through the emails she hadn't gotten to during the day. She missed her boss's constant interruptions and strange requests (_let me see your hands_ was only third weirdest on the list). She tried not to think about Tony zooming above armed terrorist camps in that outlandish and easily-identifiable red and gold suit. Really, could it be any _more _conspicuous?

The second day was even worse. He still hadn't called her back, and people had started asking where he was. She wanted to tell all of them that she was in no way responsible for the actions of Tony Stark. Instead, she smiled tiredly and said "No comment" when the reporters asked her if Iron Man was finished. Whenever she saw Jim Rhodes, he gave her a smile that said he completely understood. She resisted going over to him and asking if he had heard from Tony yet.

She was so anxious that she drove all the way to Tony's house on the coast to check if he had come back without telling her. Jarvis greeted her congenially, then told her that he couldn't pinpoint Mr. Stark's direct location. This statement made her mind up for her. Pepper ordered pizza and made herself at home. She was staying until she saw him with her own eyes. Until he arrived, safe and sound, and she could stop worrying like a paranoid girlfriend.

At 11:33 she heard a loud noise that rattled the foundations of the house. She shot up from her place on the sofa and walked quickly towards the stairs, praying to God it was Tony. Then her cell-phone rang.

"Tony! You selfish bastard, I've been worrying for two days without any calls and I was so afraid that you weren't calling me back because-"

"You were worrying about me?" his voice sounded weak, rough.

She changed her tone immediately. "What's wrong?"

"Umm, things didn't exactly go…as planned. I kind of need you in the garage."

"I'm in the house, I'll be right there." Pepper snapped the cell shut right away and took the elevator down, wondering what sight she would be met with. At least he was alive.

She took her words back as soon as she saw him lying on the floor, the helmet of his suit partly off, the rest of the suit battered and grey. Eyes wide, she rushed towards him, knelt there on the floor.

"Oh my God, oh my God…"

"It's…not as bad as it looks. Lift the helmet off, okay? It's broken."

"Okay," she said breathlessly. She peered inside the half-opened helmet and saw his ashen face. She started up an inward monologue. _Please, let him be all right and I promise to go to church more often and make him come with me…_

Pepper took his helmet off gingerly, wincing at his soft inhalation. She put his head in her lap, probing for injuries. Besides the cuts and bruises and the spectacular black eye (_Twice a week, God. Three times a week.) _she didn't see any blood on his scalp.

"Does this hurt?"

"Yes…ouch! Ow ow ow. Yes. That hurts."

She took her hands away from his head, watching as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"What do you want me to-"

"I'm going to tell you. I need to get this suit off, because I think I've got a few bullets lodged somewhere…dunno how they got through the suit, because I _thought _I had reinforced it with enough ballistic nylon to…" his voice was getting weaker and weaker. Pepper's hands were shaking.

"Can you get to the elevator?"

"You're going to have to take it off here."

"Tony, I can't. Let me call 911."

"You can. Remember last time you said that? And everything worked out perfectly. Trust me."

"I'm going to hurt you," she whispered.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Now, start with that latch, on the boot right there…yeah, that's it."

"Jarvis, I want you to monitor his vital signs. Tell me if anything bad is happening."

"Already being done, Ms. Potts."

"God, where are these robots when you need them," she said, bent over Tony's side.

"You need…a screwdriver," he said, coughing.

"A screwdriver, a screwdriver…" Butterfingers pushed one towards her. "Thank you."

With deft fingers, she started to unscrew his chest plate and the rest of the armor. The silence was punctuated by Tony's brief directions and gasps for breath. She had tears running down her face as she lifted off the chest plate and saw blood slowly oozing from various gashes. His chest was moving up and down erratically and his eyes were closing.

"Tony, stay with me here…Come on, I can't do this by myself." she kept talking, suddenly desperate to hear his voice. "Didn't you say that this suit could come off by itself now?"

"The electrical wiring got screwed up…They shot the goddamn missiles a _little _close to where I was flying…"

She kept working steadily. First one arm, then the other arm…He was almost out. By now there was blood, warm red blood, on her hands and she was really close to freaking out.

"I'm totally getting a raise because of this," she announced, halfway done with the last leg.

"Yeah you are…" he said, a faint smile on his face. He coughed again and a drop of red appeared on his bottom lip. She stared at it and made up her mind.

"That's it. Jarvis, call Jim Rhodes."

"No, he can't…know about this. Somehow, they knew I was coming. There's someone…someone's a snitch."

"It can't be Rhodey."

"Don't…care…I'm the boss. Ergo, everyone listens…to me."

"Too bad. You can fire me later. Jarvis?"

"Calling Colonel Rhodes now."

The ringing of a phone. Rhodes came on the intercom, sounding stressed. "Pepper? What's up?"

"It's Tony," she spoke in clipped tones. "He's hurt, and he needs to go to a hospital. Right now. And he's being stubborn about it, so bring backup."

"I'll be right there."

"So much for your raise, Potts," Tony said, now fully out of the suit. More tears leaked out as she looked down at his bloody torso, and she felt so useless. At least the arc reactor in his chest was unharmed.

"Hey. I'm fine. Pepper, don't cry…you know crocodile tears don't work with me…"

"Tony, I swear to God, you're never doing this to me again. I'll chain you to the floor-"

"– And that would be a bad thing because–"

"– Not letting you out of my sight for _one second."_

They looked at each other as another tear dripped down her nose.

"Look, you've ruined your makeup."

He reached up an arm and brushed his thumb against her cheek, smeared with tears and mascara and his blood. Pepper grabbed his hand and held it next to her cheek, closing her eyes as he cupped her face. She bent down and kissed him on the cheek, paused, and kissed him lightly on the lips. He groaned and she pulled back.

"What? Did I hurt you?"

"No," he said faintly, eyes closed. "This is like the sexiest thing I've ever done. You've ever done. Including that model from Latvia, the one who was into S&M…I forgave you for walking in on that, right?"

She laughed, a weird choking sound that ripped out of her throat.

"That wasn't a pity kiss, was it, Ms. Potts?" he asked, his eyes opening briefly then closing.

She shook her head and then realized that he couldn't see her. "No."

"Good. Because I'm not dead yet."

Pepper Potts sat there, holding his hand for what seemed like hours. She was still talking to him, watching his chest rise and fall, when Rhodey came with a stretcher and a team of trained navy soldiers. She didn't think he could hear her anymore, but she walked next to the stretcher, telling him that he would be all right, and that she was going to kick his sorry ass for scaring her the minute he woke up. Telling him that she would be right next to him and not to worry, because she wouldn't let the doctors do anything he wouldn't want them to do.

She insisted, as his personal assistant, on getting into the ambulance with him and sitting next to him, still holding his hand as they took his vitals and put him on a respirator. They asked her who his next of kin was. She shrugged, eyes trained on his still face. What had he told her, once? _I don't have anyone else._

_Likewise, Mr. Stark._

But he knew that already.


	6. Doctor's Orders

A/N - No updates for a couple of days guys, going down to the beach. Although the force of your reviews (I can sense them) just might pull me back. Hope you like this one! And I've decided there will be a plot. It'll be clearer hopefully in the next chapter.

**Doctor's Orders**

"Ms. Potts? You can come in and see him now. He's still not conscious…"

She shook her head and walked towards his room, thanking the nurse.

"It doesn't matter. Is he…okay?"

"Under the circumstances, Mr. Stark is doing well. He should be up soon. I have to say, that thing in his chest sure gave the surgeon a scare."

Pepper smiled tightly. "Yeah, he can do that to people."

The uniform-clad woman gave Pepper an understanding look. "From what we've seen on the news, he does seem like quite a handful."

Pepper felt like they were talking about a 10 year-old boy, not an engineering genius and industrialist worth billions of dollars. "You could say that. So I can go right in?"

"Yup. You're all cleared."

She walked into the room hesitantly, cringing at the sight of Tony lying lifeless on the bed, tubes and beeping monitors surrounding him. She sat down at the side of the bed, picking up one of his strong, capable hands. Now it had an IV sticking out of the back, the tube leading to a drip.

"Tony?" she whispered, not expecting an answer back. "Tony, you pompous ass, wake up. I've got something to tell you. Remember when I said you weren't my type? I think…I might have been lying."

Pepper leaned in closer, scrutinizing his peaceful face. The bruising on his eye had gone down a bit, she noticed. The monitor started beeping faster and she jumped back. He was still lying perfectly still in a green hospital gown that he wouldn't be caught dead in if he was awake. She breathed out a sigh of relief as the monitor's beeping calmed down, and she leaned back in. Dark eyes met blue.

"Why'd you stop talking?"

She yelped and actually fell off her chair, knocking her elbow on the floor. She struggled back up in a skirt and heels.

"Give me a little warning next time, please."

"Sorry," he sat up on one elbow, his face a picture of contrition. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she huffed, sitting back down. "I'm fine." Pepper blinked and then realized that he was actually talking to her.

"Tony! You're awake! How do you feel? Lie back down; you're going to hurt yourself."

"Huh. This is funny. I was all prepared for the slapping and the kicking of my sorry ass. Guess I'm not in heaven then."

His voice was raspy and low, but she rejoiced that he was talking all the same. "That comes later." She did a double-take. "Wait, you heard that?"

He smiled smugly and then winced. "Every word. What else have you lied about, Ms. Potts?"

"Well…I thought you were…uhh…I'm a little emotional, and…"

"Uh-huh." He sounded sleepy again.

"I was so afraid...I felt so inadequate, you know, and I just can't…"

"Pepper-"

"I just wasn't-"

"Pepper."

She shut up, biting her lip anxiously. "Yes?"

Tony was drifting. "If you really want to help me...a sponge bath would be nice. For starters."

Pepper glanced towards the doorway as the nurse opened the door quietly.

"How long as he been awake?" the nurse asked. Pepper thought she looked somewhat like her niece's bull-dog puppy. But maybe that was too harsh.

"Only for a few minutes," she replied.

Her stubborn boss was trying to sit up again. "I'm right here, you know. Woo-hoo. I'd like a cheeseburger. Extra pickles. Ketchup would be good too."

"Please lie down, Mr. Stark," the nurse said calmly and coolly. She wasn't intimidated, and Tony was shocked into obedience. He still wouldn't stop talking though. Pepper watched, torn between tears and laughter.

"So lemme guess. Broken ribs? Some torn ligaments?"

"Actually, Mr. Stark, you had some internal bleeding. One of your broken ribs almost pierced a lung. We had to do several chest x-rays, because that device in your chest interfered with the results. The doctor didn't want to remove it."

"Small miracle," Tony muttered.

"Excuse me for asking, but is it some sort of implanted pacemaker?"

"Something like that. Is it possible to get a chocolate milkshake with that cheeseburger?"

She ignored his snarky comments. "You also have several lacerations on your upper body and sides, some of which needed to be stitched up. You've lost a lot of blood. But we'll explain all this to you later. Right now you need more rest. Do you feel excessive pain anywhere?"

He sighed dramatically and let his head flop back down into the starched white pillows. "I need to get back to my house, is what I need. Prop me up in a chair and wheel me out."

"Tony, please listen."

"I was wondering when you were going to chime in, Potts. Go fetch me a wheelchair and some painkillers, and we are _outta _here."

"I'm afraid we can't let you do that," said the nurse placidly. She walked closer to him, holding out a couple pills and a glass of water. "Take these."

"No."

But Pepper could see that Tony was weakening, his breathing shallow. He was in pain and too stubborn to show it.

"Tony, you need rest. You look horrible."

"…I should fire you for that."

"Please do. It'll make my life so much easier."

The nurse looked back and forth as they argued. She was a hardened battle-axe, used to all sorts of patients. "Mr. Stark, there is a time frame in which you must take these pills. You're pushing it."

He waved a hand around in the air. "Nothing new there."

Pepper was past her breaking point. She leaned in and whispered in his ear.

"I'll owe you a sponge bath."

He perked up. "In the hot tub?"

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever."

"You won't be wearing that horrendous one-piece suit you've got, right?"

The battle-axe cleared her throat. Tony looked round at her apologetically, eyebrows raised. "Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like to join us? More than welcome."

The nurse had to mask her laugh with a cough. "I'd like for you to take this medicine."

"Oh, fuck it," he said, and swallowed the pills without water.

* * *

The CEO of Stark Industries was still complaining three days later, when the hospital had finally agreed to release him to the excellent care of one Virginia Potts, personal assistant extraordinaire, on three conditions:

1. No excessive physical exertion – such as working on and/or testing any inventions (i.e. the Iron Man suit) for at least 3 months.

2. 24 hour surveillance for at least a week ("Like a sleepover party, Pepper!" her boss had exclaimed.)

3. And last of all, no hard-core partying. (She had expected him to make a fuss about that one, but he remained oddly quiet).

That is how, on a beautiful spring morning, Pepper came to be wheeling her boss out into the back parking-lot and into Happy Hogan's able hands, amazingly avoiding the scrutiny of paparazzi. Well, mainly. There were the few bored reporters who looked astounded at their good luck as Tony Stark himself gave them excellent tabloid fodder by mercilessly haranguing his PA and bodyguard.

"Tony Stark, get your hands off my ass!"

"But I'm crippled. I need some sort of stability here."

"Lean on Happy, then."

"His ass isn't nearly as nicely formed as yours. No offense, Hap."

"Thanks, boss."

They eventually managed to get him and his crutches settled in the backseat of the Town Car. It turned out that he had somehow fractured his tibia. He wouldn't be able to really walk for several months. Pepper didn't want to know how he had managed that through the suit. Actually, she didn't want to know how he had gotten _any _of his numerous injuries, most of them pretty severe. The doctor had told her that he could have easily bled to death without luck and her immediate help. She was glad he was safe – but also stressed to the maximum point. She had only visited her sister once, and now she had to keep watch over that incorrigible man for a week.

Pepper decided to stock up on Advil for the headaches that were bound to happen. She also had to move some of her stuff over to his house…exactly what she had been avoiding all these years. Now she would _never _get a break. And there was still that disconcerting notion that the terrorists had known Tony was coming. It was enough to make her want to curl up in a ball and let the rest of the world fly by her. She was hot and sweaty, and the Malibu sun had been beating down on them for only 20 minutes.

Lost in her thoughts, Pepper hadn't noticed that Tony had been staring straight at her for a while. She shook her head and focused her eyes, looking down immediately after meeting his gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing. You looked like you were trying to burn a hole in the back of that seat. With your eyes."

"I was thinking about something."

"About getting me some fries?"

"No. You know that stuff isn't good for you," she said absentmindedly.

"I like to walk on the wild side."

She stared out the tinted windows, wondering what the next step would be. Pepper Potts always had a plan. She didn't like to be caught unawares. In fact, she prided herself for remaining relatively cool in high-tension situations. But with _this_ she had no clue how to proceed. How was one supposed to remain calm and collected when Tony Stark always held the cards in his favor?

"You're doing it again."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, now that you've asked-"

"We've arrived, sir."

"Excellent. Ms. Potts, we'll continue this conversation later."

"But Mr. Stark-"

"Hot tub first."

She helped him out of the car grudgingly, handing him his crutches where he leaned against the car. He had a full cast on, ending just above his knee. He had complained about the bulkiness, commenting on how ridiculous it was for such a little bone. The doctor was a little more awed than the nurse (of course, the doctor had to be an attractive female), and explained to him (breathlessly) just how important that little bone was. And when she had told him no vigorous activities, he got that spark in his eye and Pepper just knew that he would make some comment. He didn't disappoint, making the doctor giggle. Pepper despaired for the future of professionalism in the work place.

She followed Tony and Hogan up the path to his house, with Tony smoothly maneuvering the crutches to the best advantage. She wondered if there was anything that he couldn't do without being graceful and in control…besides being drunk, of course.

They finally got inside, and Tony sighed in contentment and relief to find everything how he had left it. He sprawled out on the couch, eyes closing. The entire incident lingered in his mind like a nightmare – something had gone wrong, and he wasn't sure how or when or even who. He wanted to sleep off the uneasy feeling like he would a hangover. Except hangovers never hurt this much. His entire body ached. Tony could feel Pepper watching him (he could almost map out the freckles across the bridge of her nose with his eyes closed). He wanted peace and knew he wasn't going to get it. Jarvis had already greeted him and asked if there was anything he needed. Tony figured that Pepper was here for a reason.

"Pepper," he grunted, opening one eye.

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Yes, Mr. Stark?"

"Percocet," he said without preamble.

She left quickly, her heels clicking on the polished floor. The sound soothed him. It was always there, a constant soundtrack that followed him day in and day out. It was not an unpleasant sound. He lay there drowsily, contemplating women's footwear, until Pepper came back with his pills and some water. He rolled his eyes lazily at her.

"Water? Do you know nothing of me?"

"Tony, you aren't supposed to take prescription painkillers with any alcohol."

"I also wasn't supposed to get out of a terrorist camp alive. Rum and coke."

She didn't move.

He was sitting up against the cushions now. "I know we've got it. If you don't want this week to be hell, you will listen to your boss. Who, by the way, is extremely sick of hospital food and orange juice."

"Fine," she snapped. "But you aren't getting your sponge bath then."

"And why not? Are you too tempted? I've still got that doctor's number "in case of emergencies". The more the merrier. Although I suppose that would be under the category of excessive physical exertion, what do you think?"

"I don't…you…ugh!"

And she marched away, hopefully to fix him his drink. He felt a little bad about making her angry, but mostly he just wanted the room to stop spinning at unusual speeds. _On second thought_, the more rational part of his brain said, _alcohol might not be the best idea right now..._

"Pepper?"

A long pause. "Yes?"

"Ix-nay on the ink-dray."

"…pig-latin?"

Tony shrugged, painfully. He took up the water and the pills and swallowed them both. He tipped his head back on the arm of the couch, took a deep breath. The tapping of Pepper's heels came closer, and he felt her sit on the couch next to him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just frustrated. At the situation, you know? I hate seeing you like…"

"Helpless and weak?" he said, a little more sharply than he had first intended.

"No. Sad and lonely and trying to hide it by making jokes."

"I sound pathetic."

She smoothed his hair back and hummed deep down in her throat. A sympathy noise. He hated those.

"You aren't pathetic, you're injured. Again. If you weren't in such good shape you probably would have died."

"I'm in good shape?"

Pepper smiled and trailed a manicured finger down his cheek, feeling the slight stubble on his jaw. She felt much more in control when she knew he couldn't move. "Don't go fishing for compliments, big-shot."

"I'll go fishing for whatever I want." his voice was drowsy.

"You're falling asleep."

"I'm resting. There's a difference."

"Do you want help getting up?"

"Didn't you just say I'm in good shape?"

"Be my guest, then. I have to go pick up some stuff at home, and then I'll be right back."

Tony attempted to haul himself up, breathing heavily. His teeth were clenched tight together and beads of sweat popped up on his hairline. "…Okay, might need some help."

He slung an arm around her shoulders and pushed himself off the couch, grabbing the crutches that Pepper held out for him. She walked beside him as he stabbed at the ground with his crutch, gritting his teeth and swinging his useless leg encased in plaster.

"Damn, this is annoying."

Watching him struggle, she was sure that her heart was beating just as fast as his.

They slowly made their way to his room, with only one incident. Tony had feinted and went for his work-room, but Pepper and Jarvis had worked in tandem to block the stairs – Jarvis set up a temporary security gate around the perimeter at her orders. She smiled smugly at his disgruntled face.

"Sorry. Doctor's orders."

She was half-supporting him and the crutches by the time they made it to his bed; the combination of painkillers and exhaustion was depleting all of his pent-up energy. She tried not to think of the week before, when she had woken up entwined in these very same sheets. He obviously had the same thought, because he smiled and beckoned her closer. She came cautiously, her arms crossed.

"Sure you don't want to join me?"

Pepper went for the cheap shot. "I doubt you would be able to get much accomplished."

His eyes narrowed. Only she could say horrible things like that and still have a job afterwards. "Try me."

"Hmm, I don't think so." She made to leave, but he grabbed her arm with the quick reflexes that she had somehow forgotten he had. She turned around to be faced with…

"Oh no, not that face. No. Whatever it is, no."

"All I want is for you to stay here."

"Tony, let go of my arm."

"But I'll be _lonely_. I don't sleep up here much anyway."

"Let go of my arm."

"Now I'm telling you to stay."

"You're _telling _me?" her tone was incredulous.

"Yes. In fact, I am ordering you. How's that for authoritative in bed?"

Pepper refrained from stomping her foot like a child. She would not stoop to _his _level.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep. Okay?"

He cocked his head, disbelieving. She tugged her arm out of his loosened grip, grabbed a chair, and sat down in it.

"See? I'm not going anywhere."

She crossed her legs and put a pleasant smile on for his sake. She really, really wanted to take a shower in her own home, just to have a few minutes with her personal space before she had to move her stuff over.

"Thanks, Pepper." There was genuine gratitude in his voice, and she was surprised. She felt herself softening up to him again (_damn _that man), and watched his eyes close with a real smile. He slept fitfully but sweetly, his hair mussed and falling into his face. Pepper watched over him until her own eyelids grew too heavy to keep up, and she cradled her cheek in her hand, her elbow on the soft mattress next to him.


	7. Falling

Okay, I'm really really sorry for the delay. Blame college. Chapters are going to be sporadic here, but I promise that I will eventually finish. And please don't stop reviewing!

Ch 7: Falling

He woke them both up with his yelling and thrashing about. It was one of the night terrors that left him shaking and sweating and cold, with only a vague outline of what the dream had actually consisted of. He could, however, remember a pair of lifeless blue eyes, crystal clear and so obviously _dead_, so hollow and meaningless…

"Tony!"

He shifted in alarm and immediately dug his fingers into his palm at the pain radiating up his leg, spreading throughout his ribs, and dancing along a particularly nasty gash along his shoulder-blade. Tony caught his breath and focused on that same pair of cerulean eyes, except they were sharp and concerned and completely different. He was, at once, immensely relieved.

"Pepper?"

"Are you okay? You were screaming, and…"

They both looked down at her forearm, where the hard fingers of his other hand still grasped the pale skin at her wrist. Tony let go right away, swallowing hard. He could already tell that she was the type who bruised easily.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I thought…in my dream, you were…"

He reached out to her, unthinking, and she recoiled, holding her wrist. Something inside him shriveled up and died.

"It's nothing," she dismissed it easily, but it wasn't nothing and he knew it. Why she didn't just quit and leave him to some less-qualified simpering female was one of the great mysteries of life. Way up there with the Bermuda triangle and genetics.

He couldn't look at her – he stared down at his clenched fist. "You didn't have to stay. I wouldn't have known."

A wry smile. "I fell asleep too."

"Ah well. Better you than Jack Daniels, huh?"

"If you're trying to say that I'm better company than a glass bottle-"

"That's it. You've got it exactly."

"Well, thank you."

He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Approximately 3 hours, Mr. Stark."

Tony pulled himself up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. He was expecting some sort of outburst from his anal-retentive personal assistant, but she was strangely calm. Albeit a little frightened by his nightmare, but otherwise there was no sign of hysteria. He tried to match this up with the information he already knew about Pepper (vegetarian, neat-freak, shoe fetish, the most punctual person he had ever met…).

She gave him an unsure half-smile as he gaped at her. "Is something wrong?"

"Shouldn't…don't you have things to do?"

Her expression changed from content to bewildered and upset, and finally settled into professional acquiescence. A horrible, impersonal mask. She stiffly rose from the chair, gathering some papers and tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'll be going then, Mr. Stark. I only stayed because you made me promise…"

He realized too late how wrong that had sounded. "No, no. That's not what I meant…I mean, aren't you upset that you idled away three hours of your life napping? I have no problem with it, clearly, but you always get angry when I'm being 'clinically irresponsible'-"

"I canceled and rescheduled all of your appointments today, including any and all phone consultations, and I cleared up my schedule because I thought that you would need my help. So no, I don't have much to do right now."

_And I intended to keep my sanity, _she added silently to herself. Not that any sanity was being preserved here.

"Huh," he said, scrutinizing her unusually blank face. "Hey, don't be mad at the cripple."

Pepper relaxed a little. That was how he solved all of these little arguments; usually, he simply just said what he thought the situation needed. Sometimes he was too focused on something else to notice. He was being unusually observant.

"Is there anything else you need, Mr. Stark?"

"Oh, don't start with the…" he was stopped by her glare. "Yes, actually…I really do need to clean up."

_Shit. _"Can't you just take a shower?" Pepper asked somewhat desperately.

He ducked his head, flashed her that naughty Cheshire cat grin. "Stitches, remember? No showers 'til they're out. Doctor's orders."

She pursed her lips as she recognized her own words being thrown back in her face. Pepper looked down at the bulky plaster on his leg. "No hot-tub either. You can't get that wet."

She was actively thinking of a solution now, forgetting about the awkward situation. She drummed her fingers against her thigh subconsciously.

"I forgot to ask you. Want to sign my cast?"

She glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. "Don't you think you're a little old for that?"

He pouted. "Fine. I'll ask Rhodey then."

Pepper brightened. "I can bring a bucket of water out on the deck. It's hot outside, right?"

"Sure, whatever. Lead the way."

He reached for his crutches and stood up, arched his back. He started to take a step and faltered. She took his arm without a word. The polished floors of his living room were already scuffed by the rubber at the bottom of his crutches. Pepper looked at the marks and grimaced – she gave herself half an hour until she was on her hands and knees scratching at the floor with her fingernail. She had found out the hard way that almost everything she did for Tony wasn't in her job description.

When they went onto the deck, he breathed in deep. The crashing of the blue-green crests of water onto the glistening rocks below soothed both of their nerves, the wind teasing Pepper's hair out of the tight ponytail. He settled down in one of the lawn chairs, stretching his leg gingerly out in front of him. He watched her stride away from him, grinning. He had always thought she had legs to rival those of Hefner's Playmate of the Year. Granted, the fact that the busty brunette made weird monkey noises in bed had brought her down a notch. Tony was sure that Pepper was far too dignified to make any sort of squeaking noise. Then again, you never knew with redheads…

His musings were cut short as Pepper came back lugging a bucket of water, a sponge, and a washcloth. He didn't ask if the water was warm or cold – she had a look of determination that bespoke death or severe harm to anyone who challenged her.

As soon as she got close enough he called out to her. "Need some help?"

"Like you would be any help," she grumbled, hauling the bucket and setting it on the ground. With a deep, long-suffering sigh, she stripped off her suit jacket, revealing a pretty blue cami underneath. He wolf-whistled as she folded the jacket and placed it over the railing on the deck.

"I would appreciate it if you could keep the maturity level above age 16, Mr. Stark."

"I'll try, Ms. Potts. Scout's honor." He held one hand over his heart.

"You were never a scout."

"Never say never, Ms. Potts."

She stood in front of him and he squinted against the sun to look up at her.

"So what d'you want me to do?"

"I guess...take off…your shirt?"

"Knew I'd break you one day."

"Tony…"

"Spoil all the fun."

It was a navy blue button down polo. She looked away, blushing, as he undid the buttons himself. _It's totally not awkward…I'm just watching my boss take off his shirt…slowly…_

"You're staring."

"I am not."

"Are we really going to play this game?"

"Mr. Stark, if you would just-"

"You're in denial. You know that?"

"-I have much better things to do than-"

"-No you don't."

"No I don't what?"

"Have better things to do. You cleared your schedule."

She stared at him. "I can't do this."

"Ok. Alright, I'm sorry. I was just making a point…"

"No. No, something's wrong here."

"Really, I'll stop. I'm closing my eyes, now I can't see anything. Go ahead, wash me."

"Tony, look at me. Seriously."

He opened his eyes cautiously, with that little grimace that said he was expecting her to explode. She wasn't exploding. She was imploding. He sensed it. He suddenly felt a little naked without a shirt on.

"I think I'm going to close my eyes again, so if you'll excuse me-"

"No, you don't."

And suddenly her warm palms were on either side of his face, holding it there. His eyes flew open and stared into hers for the second time that day. She let go just as soon as he opened his eyes, a red blush creeping up her neck.

She spoke softly in comparison to their loud banter. "You were seriously injured. You're not sleeping well. You're having horrible nightmares…and you don't tell me anything anymore. You act like…I don't know, like nothing's wrong, like everything is how it used to be."

"You know more about me than anyone else. Except maybe Jarvis."

"I don't know anything about this Justice Squad you're apparently putting together…"

"Justice _League…"_

"Whatever. The point is, sometimes, you aren't invincible."

His voice was even softer. "Neither are you."

"Excuse me?"

"You don't have to have everything together _all _the time, you know. Sometimes, you can let yourself give in."

She could only nod, her hand limp on the arm of his chair. He picked it up carefully and turned it over, looking at her wrist.

"I'm sorry for that," he said somberly.

"I'll just put some cream on it later," she said breathlessly. Pepper usually had trouble drawing in oxygen when he looked at her like _that_.

He started to get up, the muscles in his torso shifting attractively. Now she actually _was_ staring. Then she realized something was wrong with the picture.

"Where are you going?"

"You don't really seem in the _washing_ mood, so I was going to-"

"A deal is a deal," she said, and proceeded to push him back down (gently), dip the sponge in the room temperature water, and place it on his arm. She squeezed it and they both watched the rivulets run off the tips of his fingers. He sucked in his breath at the delicate touch of her hand on his bare shoulder.

"This isn't going to work."

"No," she said quickly.

There was an uncomfortable, heavy pause. Then, for some inexplicable reason, Pepper "the Ice Queen" Potts found herself attached to Tony's face. His hands cradled her face, fingers shifting to splay across the back of her neck. First she was kneeling next to him, then sitting on his lap. She felt the smooth skin of his shoulders, his chest, his back as he kissed her, and it was more wonderful and frightening and different then she could have ever imagined. For once, she forgot about all the different women he had kissed and focused on the present, the _right now_, the heat flooding her entire body… When they finally parted for air, he smirked at her, his fingers venturing up the side of her tank top. She pushed his hand away, weakly.

She grinned shakily and got off his lap, feeling like a bit of an idiot. "I'm sorry; I was probably hurting you…"

"You were. You are. In a very good way. Don't stop."

"Can we at least go inside?"

He tilted his head and contemplated the red spot on her neck. "Think we'll make it to the couch?"

"Yes," she said a little more firmly.

They made it to the guest bedroom (one of them) before he pulled her down beside him, sliding on top of the cool sheets. However, her common sense was returning. A small, traitorous part of her wished that it could leave her alone for a while. A long, long while.

"Tony," she whispered as he was kissing her shoulder, her shirt discarded somewhere beneath them. If his leg was hurting, he didn't show it. The cast only slowed him down a little bit.

"Hmm?" his hands were at the small of her back, on her thigh…

"_Tony_," she hissed, her hands stilled on his chest. He reluctantly lifted his head and looked at her.

"What?"

"Maybe we shouldn't do this yet."

"Why not? You are 18 or older, yes? Because I for one do not see a problem here. There is no problem if I say there is no problem."

He was babbling. Then again, he had been waiting for a long time.

"I don't know, I wanted..."

"What? What do you want? Flowers, candles, chocolates? Pick one. You have about 10 seconds."

"Don't."

"Six, five, four, three…"

He kissed her again, sucking all the breath from her lungs. She managed to push him away, her fingers still twisted in his hair. Tony sighed and gave her a woebegone look.

"Later. I want to go home and get my stuff. And think about things."

"Don't think. Thinking is bad. Thinking leads to talking. Talking is not what I want to be doing. I don't think it's what you want to be doing either."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek and got out of bed. "I promise I'll be back."

"This is definitely a first for me."

He sat up, wincing. She couldn't help but lean over and kiss him again. She snatched her shirt and darted back before he could pull her back down.

"It's good for your ego," Pepper retorted.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "The only reason that I am allowing you to leave is because I prefer to be on top. And right now my leg is giving me hell."

She couldn't think of anything to say. She turned her back and marched out of the room, his laughter following her.

Pepper got in her Audi and took a deep, calming breath. She started the ignition and drove out of the garage. The music blasted from inside her car as she pulled into the apartment complex where she lived. The engine stalled as she sat in the car and squealed, leaning her head against the steering wheel. She felt like a stupid teenager whose crush had just asked her out. It was a little ridiculous.

She didn't remember getting out of the car, but somehow found herself at the door to her loft. She unlocked it and stepped in, kicking off her shoes immediately and going through a mental list of things she needed to pack. After all, she was a realist at heart. Pepper made her way to the bedroom, taking her smart phone out of her bag. Just in case Tony had a sudden inexplicable urge for cheerios or something.

The light was off. She reached out her hand to flick on the light switch when someone grabbed her from behind. An iron hand clamped over her mouth, muffling her scream. The barrel of a gun dug into her stomach.

The voice was soft and dangerous, with just a hint of an accent. She thought maybe Chinese. Pepper wondered why she was able to think rationally while being threatened.

"Ms. Potts? We have a proposition for you."


	8. Threatened

**Author's Note: **There is really nothing to say. If you're glad to see that I'm continuing this, you can thank my pushy roommate who begged me to finish this. If you are like GOD NO THIS SUCKS, then you can blame her as well. Just know that I have a much better idea where this is going than I did two years ago (I also hope the writing has improved). This is the last chapter I had written, and from now on it's all new. It's not going to follow the second movie, although I will be stealing aspects from it. If there's still an audience for this, please let me know what you think!

**Disclaimer**: Don't own it.

* * *

Pepper still couldn't see very well, but narrowed her eyes at the voice.

"A proposition?" she spat back, angry and confused. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"We are not at liberty to say," the voice replied silkily. "But it would be prudent to stop moving and listen."

She stopped trying to step on the guy's feet (she had learned from experience that stilettos could do serious damage) behind her when she felt the cold barrel of a gun pressed into the soft tissue just below her ear. The redhead gulped. There were two men, as far as she could tell – one behind her, his arm like a steel trap around her chest, and the other a shadowy outline standing in front of her. She didn't dare move a muscle.

The man continued on, unperturbed. "Our business with you concerns the _great _Tony Stark. You know him, yes?"

Pepper sucked in deep breath. She should've seen this coming. In fact, she was surprised that it hadn't happened earlier. She decided not to try and lie – the gun shoved into her flesh was an unwelcome reminder that they meant business.

"Of course I know him," she snapped. "If you wanted to make a deal with him, you should have gone through the correct legal channels instead of-"

The talker backhanded her emotionlessly, stopping her sentence short. His voice didn't change a bit. "My employer has tried to reach him, but Stark believes himself to be invincible. It's time for more…aggressive action."

"What do you want?" she whispered, gnawing on her already swollen lip anxiously.

"Information on the arc reactor that keeps Mr. Stark alive. He has decided to keep this industry-changing knowledge to himself. Obadiah Stane had the right idea."

"Obadiah Stane was insane," Pepper shot back, her jaw throbbing. "Tony doesn't want it to be turned against the people he's trying to help. He'll never give you the technology for any amount of money," Pepper argued, hating the man's mocking, arrogant tone. She was nothing if not loyal, and no one would call her boss foolish or stubborn in front of her.

"Which is why," the man said loudly, over her protestations, "You are going to help us."

The silence was deafening. Pepper could see the stillness of his stocky frame by the weak light coming through the closed shades.

"Y-you want…me? To help you, what, _steal_ from my employer? I don't think so. What did you think you would bribe me with? Money?"

"You are close with Mr. Stark."

Pepper's throat closed up. Suddenly, she knew where this was going. "I have working relationship with him," she said cautiously, the pressure across her chest really starting to hurt.

"You called him Tony," the voice pointed out dispassionately.

_Damn_, Pepper though. To slip up now of all times…_Thanks a lot, _Tony._ This is your fault_.

"I've been working for him for a long time," she scrambled to cover her tracks. "He insists that I use his first name sometimes."

"You wouldn't want to see him harmed, would you?"

Pepper didn't like being threatened in such a vague manner. "Get to the point."

"What if I told you that I have 10 men surrounding his house, 5 of them in position to shoot him the minute he steps outside on his own deck?"

"Impossible," she rasped, her supply of air finally gone. "Jarvis would-"

"We are very good at what we do, Ms. Potts," the man said, holding up a disk for her inspection. Sure enough, it was a portable version of Jarvis, the replicate program saved on an external hard drive. They had obviously done their research thoroughly. "And we know he was outside with _you_ earlier today."

She was lost for words the second time today. "How did you…This can't…You can't kill Tony Stark…!"

"I assure you, we can. Mr. Stark has tread on the feet of very powerful people for far too long. My employer has decided to take matters into his own hands, for the good of his country."

"Who are you working for?" Pepper whispered, her mind buzzing into overdrive.

The man shook his head. "Not important. Will you cooperate, or will _Iron Man_," he said the name contemptuously, "be silenced forever?"

She took her time. "How do I know you aren't bluffing?"

"Very well then." The man pulled out a handheld radio and started speaking into it, the terse, clipped words unrecognizable.

"Wait!" Pepper nearly screamed, despising the way her voice cracked hopelessly. "I'll get you the information. You just…have to give me some time. Don't hurt him, okay?"

The shadowy figure nodded to the man holding her, and she took a deep breath as the iron band disappeared around her chest. She stood still, breathing hard, as he moved around her.

"It was pleasant doing business with you, Ms. Potts. Until next time-"

"How will I…contact you?"

"You will see me again soon enough."

And she stood there, shaking, in the dark. _What the hell…_ They wanted her to betray Tony Stark. At his most helpless. She couldn't do it. Not to mention specific information on the Iron Man suit in the hands of mercenaries like that…No. She had to do it. She couldn't let Tony be hurt. _Come on, Pepper_, her subconscious wheedled, _choose. Tony or the world?_


	9. Nine Lives

**Author's Note**: Another chapter! Thank you to everyone who reviewed. Also, disclaimer, I (obviously) don't own Iron Man.

* * *

"Tony?" Pepper hated how her voice shook, just the slightest bit, as she walked into the silent house. Jarvis had already utilized the face recognition security and let her in without a word. Her heels clicked in the empty living room. The big windows detailing the ever-changing coastline seemed ominous instead of beautiful, especially now that darkness complimented the roar of the surf. _They could be out there right now, watching. Whoever "they" are._

"He is downstairs, Mrs. Potts," Jarvis informed her.

"Downstairs? How did he get downstairs?" She sighed at the man's complete pig-headedness, already stalking across the room.

"Very clumsily, actually." The AI sounded matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you're on crutches," she muttered, feeling the mother of all migraines coming on. Which she supposed was natural after just getting a death threat meant for her boss and a task that might very well shift the tentative balance of power (in the U.S.? Globally? She had no idea) and cause international havoc.

"Tony!" The word was out of her mouth the minute she stepped into his inner sanctum. He looked up from his holograms with a guilty look reminiscent of a boy caught climbing a tree in his Sunday clothes. The metaphorical hand in the cookie jar.

"I really hope you had a brilliant revelation that warranted dragging yourself down those stairs and possibly falling and breaking even more bones."

"I missed you," he offered, sitting back in his chair and running his hand through disheveled brown hair.

"Don't try and sweet-talk me, Tony Stark. You are possibly the stupidest man I've ever –"

"Woah," he grabbed his crutches and swung his way over to her, staring at her with concern. She couldn't look him in the eyes. "Did something happen? You seem…"

"I'm fine," she snapped, then softened when she saw his jaw tighten. "I'm just…tired. And worried. I don't want you to get hurt again." _I'm worried that snipers are going to take you out the minute you walk outside. _

"Please. I'm only on what, my third life? Still have six more to go."

"Very funny. Can we get you back upstairs now?"

"Lead the way, Ms. Potts."

"Ok, so…maybe if you…" she leaned forward to get the door, and he agilely hopped through the doorway without help. They both looked at the stairs, a seemingly insurmountable task. Like Mount Everest, only less inviting.

"Piece of cake," Tony shrugged, and swung his crutches up to the first step, pulling himself up. Pepper hovered anxiously.

"Here, give me this." She took one of his crutches so he could lean on the railing. She figured it was more stable than her traitorous shoulder. When they finally made it to the top, his face was white. He collapsed on the couch, his eyes shut.

"I don't feel bad for you," Pepper announced, the worried wrinkle between her eyes proving her a liar. "You shouldn't have gone down there in the first place."

"Thanks for your concern," he groaned, turning on the television with a simple word command. He shifted uncomfortably, feeling something wet and sticky staining his shirt. They both looked down at the same time to see a red stain spreading across the thin white cotton.

"Um." He met Pepper's eyes and gave a crooked, painful smile. "Ow?"

Pepper wanted to curl up in a fetal position and rock back and forth in a far-away corner. She wished she had never met Tony Stark. No. She wished she had never heard the name Stark. She cursed her younger self for thinking that getting a job as Tony Stark's personal assistant would further her career and enrich her life.

"Tony," she said calmly. Patiently, even. "You probably ripped some of your stitches."

She walked over to the couch as he struggled to sit up. "I'm fine," he waved her away, managing to lean against the back of the couch.

"You're not fine," she pointed out, kneeling in front of him and raising the hem of his shirt. She slapped his hand away when he tried to protest. "You're bleeding. Again."

She wondered if there was ever a time when she didn't have to worry about Tony dying.

"I'm sorry." He actually sounded sorry for once. And then she couldn't bring herself to be mad when he looked at her with the big brown kicked-puppy eyes. Especially not while bleeding profusely.

"I'm gonna ruin the couch."

She examined the bandage wrapped around his middle, soaked through with red.

"Stay here," she commanded, flushing as he raised an eyebrow at her. She felt like crying as she rushed off to find the bag of medical supplies that she had taken home from the hospital. Medical tape and gauze and pills and – Fuck, his_ pills_. He had to take them at a certain time and she was 110% sure that he hadn't remembered…Where the hell was her bag?

"The room directly off the main hallway, Ms. Potts," Jarvis informed her. She hadn't realized she was muttering to herself. _Pull yourself together, Potts. _

When she made it back to Tony, he had managed to lower himself to the floor (which, being wood, was more blood-friendly than the expensive fabric of the couch) and was removing the stained bandage. Judging from the pained look on his face, it wasn't a pleasant experience.

She knelt next to him and held her hand out, his medication resting on her palm. "You have to take these."

He glanced up at her after tugging the last of the gauze from his body and took them without a word, panting harshly.

"What, no protest?" she kidded weakly, pulling bandages and prescription gels from the bag. He shut his eyes, resting his head against her shoulder.

She breathed out in a long, dramatic whoosh. "Okay. I'm taking you to the hospital."

"No," he said.

"No," she repeated incredulously.

"No." he winced as she held a damp towel to the half-closed gash. "Your turn."

"Tony!"

He opened his eyes and looked at her, his face dangerously close to her own. "I'm not going to the hospital for a –" he paused, bringing his non-bloody hand up to her jaw in concern. "Where did you get that bruise?" he asked quietly.

She felt her face stretch in a wide, nervous smile. "Oh, I just bumped into a wall in my apartment before I turned the lights on."

He was still looking at her. She ignored his gaze and gently mopped at his ribs. The bleeding had almost stopped, although there was an angry red purple color surrounding the wound.

"Tony, I don't want this to get infected."

"It won't. How hard did you hit the wall?"

She wasn't listening to him. He couldn't help but smile at her concentration, the tip of her tongue between her teeth as she tried to position the square piece of bandage to her liking.

"Pepper."

"Huh?"

"Bruise. Wall. What did you do, close the door with your face?"

"Honestly, it was just me being clumsy. Stop fussing."

She reached behind her, one hand searching for the surgical tape.

"You stop fussing first!"

She stopped and gave him a level look. "I'm not the idiot who ripped open my stitches."

"I –"

Pepper's blackberry rang, and she answered it smugly in response to Tony's eye-roll.

"Colonel Rhodes?"

Tony immediately reached for the phone, and Pepper stood up to keep it out of his reach.

"Yes, he's fine." She glanced at the sulking man on the floor appraisingly. "Okay, he's not terrible."

Tony strained to hear Rhodey's side of the conversation, especially when Pepper started frowning.

"Press conference? He can barely walk."

"Yes, I can!"

"Two days, at the very least."

Another pause. "Fine." she held the phone out to Tony. "He wants to talk to you."

"Jimmy. Get over here; you have to sign my cast."

Pepper heard Colonel Rhodes chuckle, "Tony, you lucky bastard," as she knelt to pick up the discarded towel on the floor. She rinsed it out in the sink, watching the diluted red swirl down the drain. She was suddenly exhausted, her knees threatening to give out. She soaped up the towel and took it back inside where Tony was still snarking on the phone.

"No, you can't be Iron Man for two weeks."

Pepper huffed in amusement as she started scrubbing at the bloodstain on the couch.

"Over my dead body," he announced, and ended the call, focusing his attention on his PA once more.

"What are you doing?"

"Cleaning. What does it look like?"

"Well, stop. I pay people to do that."

"You pay me," she said, still scrubbing.

"Pepper, seriously." He reached up and grabbed her hand. She stopped her frantic movement, allowing herself to relax for a second. She realized that she hadn't stopped moving since… since she was threatened in her own apartment.

"I'm tired," she whispered.

"So lets go to bed," he said, entwining her fingers with his.

"Tony," she sighed exasperatedly.

He smiled rakishly. "Just to sleep, I swear."

Tony let her pull him up, and she only let go of him when he had his crutches back.

"I guess," she said slowly. "Just to make sure you don't bleed to death in the middle of the night."

"Exactly," he agreed.

After a long, painful process that made her wish that Happy hadn't gone home for the night, she finally got Tony into bed without too many comments or grimaces. He was still adamant about not going to the hospital, and she was too beaten down to fight with him. She disappeared into the bathroom with her overnight bag and came out five minutes later in an oversized t-shirt and silky sleep shorts.

He eyed her. "That's what you're wearing to bed?"

"Yes, boss. What were you expecting?"

"Nothing," he replied innocently, stretching his arms behind the head and looking up at the ceiling.

She suddenly felt very, very out of place. "This is ridiculous. I'm going to sleep in the guest room."

He rolled over on his side. "Oh, come on. We _napped_ together, for God's sake –"

"That was…completely different! I didn't…"

"Why am I constantly having to convince you that this is a good idea?"

"Maybe because it's not?"

He fell silent, watching her. She wavered, feeling awkward with bare feet. It was the pain that flashed in his dark eyes that convinced her. Pepper breathed in deep like she was going underwater and slid under the covers, facing him. She savored the moment when he was too shocked to say anything, and kissed him on the cheek.

"Good-night, Mr. Stark." Pepper laid her head on his shoulder as he lay flat on his back (careful not to touch any of his injuries), and he pulled her closer. She was in too deep now – might as well dig herself further into the hole.

"Good-night, Ms. Potts."


	10. Damage Control

**Author's Note: **Sorry this one is a little late!

* * *

He was badgering her. An hour before an important press conference at which Rhodes insisted that Tony be present. She wished she could ship Tony back to his place for two reasons: One, because she had spent way too much time with him in the past week and two, she was deathly afraid for his life. She hadn't heard anything from the men threatening Tony's life, and she hadn't even started looking for the files that they had asked for. Usually she would agree that avoidance was not an acceptable coping mechanism, but she didn't think she had a choice. No – she did have a choice. She just wasn't strong enough to make a decision.

"By the way, it has now been two nights we've slept together and nothing's happened."

"That's because one of the nights you had a bleeding chest wound and the second night you took two Vicodin with scotch and couldn't find the bed when you were standing right next to it."

"Minor setbacks."

"Not now, Tony," Pepper snapped, extremely on edge. The conference room was stifling; even more so when she thought about the reporters waiting outside and everything that could go wrong. "Do you know what you're going to say?"

He sat back in his chair, fingering his chin thoughtfully. "People of the world. I am alive. Thank you."

She stared at him. "You're not serious?"

"I'll figure it out when I'm up there."

"I knew we should have given you cue cards."

" 'Cause that worked out so well last time."

"If you had stuck to the story –"

"Boring."

She pursed her lips and went back to dabbing concealer on the healing cuts and bruises on his face.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," she directed her comment to Colonel Rhodes, who stood against the wall, his arms crossed.

"The people need to see that Tony is still okay and in charge. You know that certain people would love to declare Tony unfit and legally order him to give up the suit."

"Yeah, well. Tony isn't okay."

"I'm fine!"

She whirled around, throwing her hands up. "Would you stop saying that? You can barely walk!"

Rhodes didn't move from his spot on the wall. "If Tony says he's fine, then he's fine."

"Thank you."

"He's an asshole and he's gonna kill himself, but if he says he's fine…" Rhodes shrugged.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Why are we friends, again?"

"I ask myself that same question every day," the military man deadpanned.

Pepper stifled an unladylike snort just as one of Tony's aides stuck his head into the room, looking frazzled. "Mr. Stark, you're on in five."

Tony reached for his crutches, waving the two of them away and lifting himself out of the chair. "Time to get this party started, people."

He swung away from them, stopping just before the doorway. "Wait. Pepper, c'mere."

Pepper stood behind him, hands on her hips. "Yes, Mr. Stark?"

And he planted a kiss on her open mouth. She pulled away, blushing, when Jim Rhodes cleared his throat. She didn't dare look at Tony.

"Always wanted to do that," Tony grinned, squaring his shoulders and pushing the door open with one crutch, leaving Pepper and Colonel Rhodes to hurry after him. Happy had to clear a path as Tony walked towards the podium (although _limped_ might be the better word choice, Pepper thought with a wince). She stood near the stage, glancing up at him anxiously as he stood in front of the crowd. He gripped the podium with both hands, his crutches discarded on the ground. She could see the strain in his face.

"Oh, Tony," she murmured, admiration and exasperation warring in her voice. She listened with half an ear to the mutterings of the crowd as Tony adjusted the microphone. She scanned the group of reporters as if she had x-ray vision, determined to recognize the shadowy man in her apartment.

"People of the world," Tony began. Pepper's attention zoomed to the front of the room.

"I am alive," he said, spreading his arms in a self-satisfied way. Pepper groaned audibly. Tony caught her eye and winked. She glowered at him.

"No, but seriously. I know you're all here today hoping to see me fall on my face," –a small ripple of laughter – "but it's not going to happen. I'll be back in the suit in a couple of days." He sounded confident and sure of himself amidst the clamor of questions and cameras flashing. Pepper strained her neck, still trying to look for any suspicious behavior. They wouldn't shoot Tony in such a public place, would they?

"You. Low-cut shirt girl."

"What happened?"

"Tripped and fell," was his simple answer.

Low-cut shirt girl looked skeptical. "You tripped and fell? On what?"

"I wasn't high, if that's what you're asking," Tony said, feigning indignant.

It stopped her in her tracks for a second. "No, I mean, what did you trip over?" she said, wording her sentence carefully.

"The stairs." He tilted his head, daring her to challenge him. The young reporter sat back down. There were more questions – Pepper tuned them out, focusing on a Chinese man on his phone. He was standing off to the side, not exactly conspicuous but enough to catch her attention. She inched closer, trying to hear his voice. He shut his phone abruptly and stared at Tony, taking a few steps closer. And then she had an argument with herself.

_He looks suspicious. Doesn't he look suspicious?_

_What, just because he's Chinese?_

No_, look at him. Very shady._

_He's doing the same thing as everyone el – Oh my God, what is he doing? He's reaching into his jacket, ohmyGod_

"Tony!" Pepper blurted out. The room fell silent. The Chinese man pulled some breath mints out of his jacket pocket. _Shit._ Pepper smiled awkwardly at everyone staring at her. Tony quirked an eyebrow.

"Ms. Potts?" he said inquisitively. Suddenly all the mics and the cameras were pointed at her. She felt like she might throw up all over her new Manolos.

"Ah…nothing. I was just…"

"Trying to stop me from another PR disaster?" Tony supplied smoothly. He held up one finger to the crowd, beckoning Pepper over to join him on the side of the podium.

"That was weird," Tony whispered. Like this was just one big game.

"Sorry," Pepper whispered back. "I thought someone looked threatening."

"Pepper, when did I hire you as my bodyguard?"

"Oh, that's nice. Sorry for caring," Pepper sniffed childishly, straightening her skirt and marching back to her spot. She didn't dare look back at Tony. He answered a few more questions as she stood there and tried not to turn red.

"Conference over, people," he said finally, grabbing his crutches and turning to leave. Happy Hogan followed him out the back, and Pepper stayed a few more minutes to do some damage control.

* * *

"Tony, please stop asking."

"But what _was_ that?"

They were sitting outside – well, Tony was sitting and Pepper was pacing - outside of Tony's house. She didn't know how long she could function under this much stress.

"You're having daydreams about me, aren't you?"

His smug voice jolted her out of her worried haze. She made a noise of disbelief. "Please. Like you're God's gift."

"You don't even –"

"I am _not_ dreaming about you, Tony Stark." She sighed and collapsed into the chair next to him, squeezing her eyes shut as her phone rang for the hundredth time.

"Shut it off," he said, his tone light. She looked at him and laughed weakly. "I'm serious."

"Right. So then everyone can think that you're hiding something and I'm insane."

"You are insane."

"I was perfectly sane before I started working for you!"

The vibrating noise of her blackberry was insistent, but she couldn't bring herself to answer any more questions. She tilted her head back and tried to enjoy the rays of the sun. Even though she knew it was bad for her skin and she would probably start to freckle and –

"I shut the phone off. You looked preoccupied."

It was oddly silent besides the cry of the seagulls over the surf. She couldn't even summon up any anger at him, because at that moment, silence was the only thing she wanted to hear.


End file.
